


Carry On

by icaruslaughed



Series: Suptober20 [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Post-Season/Series 15, Song: Carry on My Wayward Son (Kansas), The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, have fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icaruslaughed/pseuds/icaruslaughed
Summary: day 31 of suptober
Series: Suptober20 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955047
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween! jeez, this month has been so long and so short at the same time, but I am grateful for every prompt. sorry iv'e been gone for the past couple days, too: I've been listening to Achilles Come Down on repeat the whole time, if you know what I mean. so, uh, enjoy!

_ Carry on my wayward son _

Dean’s arms ached. So did his legs, his back, his whole body. Blood still gushed from his split lip, dripping onto already filthy clothes. He needed to wash them when--if--he made it back to the bunker. He  _ had _ to. His flannel didn’t matter all that much to him, and if he were being honest, he knew he’d miss the handprint on his jacket if he washed it away. But Cas’s signature trench coat was soaked with blood--both old and new--and the white dress shirt he wore underneath was absolutely ruined, and Dean deemed that simply unacceptable. He had to wash Cas’s clothes because he deserved to at least look nice for his funeral. He deserved so much more than that. He deserved the world for everything he did for the Winchesters. Cas single-handedly carried Team Free Will, and for his troubles, Dean wound up carrying what used to be him.

_ There’ll be peace when you are done _

He wondered if Billie would make good on her promise to send him to the Empty when he died. If he’d see Cas there. He couldn’t go right then, he knew that, because Sam and Jack needed him. But everyone dies and he’d always expected his time to come well before most. Cas mentioned once how the Empty isn’t Nothing, but angels and demons reliving their worst memories.  _ There are fates worse than death, but few are worse than Hell. _ Dean thought that was one of them. It wouldn’t matter, though, not to him, not if he got to see Cas and maybe even Sam and Jack again. He knew better than to pretend there was such thing as a better place for people like him, but good things do happen, Dean.

_ Lay your weary head to rest _

Setting a freshly-wrapped Cas on the pyre, Dean made sure to lay him down gently. It didn’t matter, of course, but, well, sentiment. He stepped back and lit a match to burn his best friend for what he hoped was the last time. He wanted to see him again--he would never stop missing him--but he couldn’t bear the thought of doing  _ this _ another time. Sam muttered something in Enochian that roughly translated to, “May your spirit be forever at rest,” if Dean remembered correctly. He stood there and watched as the best friend he ever had burned into nothing. Tears mixed with blood mixed with smoke and the world blurred.

_ Don’t you cry no more _


End file.
